


Hold Us In Those Arms

by meloingly



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Carlos Reyes Needs a Hug (9-1-1 Lonestar), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Future Fic, Good Significant Other TK Strand, M/M, Married Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Mentions of Past Emotional Child Abuse, Soft Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28815915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloingly/pseuds/meloingly
Summary: If Carlos could use one singular word to describe the day, it would be some mix of 'horrendous', 'terrible' and 'assfuckery'. Apparently, the entirety of Austin decided to lose their brain cells on the same day, doing a range of dumb shit. And he was done. He was tired, and exhausted, and hungry. The promise of home was the only thing that kept him going as the last few hours of the shift rolled by.He can't believe that once upon seven years ago, he'd told TK that "if it isn't meant to be it isn't meant to be."They've all come so far.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Comments: 10
Kudos: 123
Collections: Carlos Reyes Week 2021





	Hold Us In Those Arms

**Author's Note:**

> Carlos Week Day 4: "You've Come So Far" + Future.
> 
> There is a minor mention of past emotional child abuse of an original charter, so tread lightly if that's not something you're okay with.
> 
> Beta credit to the fabulous [Lire-Casander](https://lire-casander.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters depicted, they belong to their creators. I'm writing just for the fun of it.

If Carlos could use one singular word to describe the day, it would be some mix of 'horrendous', 'terrible' and 'assfuckery'. Apparently, the entirety of Austin decided to lose their brain cells on the same day, doing a range of dumb shit. And he was done. He was tired, and exhausted, and hungry. The promise of home was the only thing that kept him going as the last few hours of the shift rolled by.

He parks in the driveway, unwilling to open the garage and snake his car inside. It's turned into somewhat of storage for a number of items they need to get rid of. It still takes both of their cars, but it requires manoeuvring the car around and a level of concentration that he just doesn't possess at the moment. So he parks in the driveway instead, stretching back to grab his bag, and then he's jogging up the porch.

He stops just outside the door, hand on the handle, and takes a breath. His family is extremely sensitive to his moods. He may not have a mirror at hand, but he can imagine how he looks; wrinkles on his forehead, a glare in his eyes, and thin lips. He sighs slowly, willing some of the tension to leave with the exhale. He repeats it again and then decides to pull on his big boy pants and he opens the door.

He's greeted by the smell of something _sour_ cooking, and picks up lime and chicken spices in the air almost immediately. He drops his bag, toes off his shoes, and then takes a moment to stretch. He wants to get inside, feel the love and safety and security, but he doesn't want to bring any troubles from the outside world in.

He passes across the living room, dodging through Legos and car toys, making a mental note to tidy up the haphazard toy boxes in the corner. The TV is on, playing "Moana" on mute. He turns it off, the sound of a cabinet opening, a pan being lifted, and the cabinet closing pulling him further in.

As he steps under the door frame, Carlos can't help but take a moment to appreciate the way his life has turned out. TK is wearing his favourite apron, a piece of light yellow fabric with small, animated elephants stamped all over. He has his back to Carlos, focusing on whisking something in a bowl, and then he stops and slides over to the stove, lifting the lid of a pot to add green peppers and then closing it again, before returning to the bowl.

Ella is sitting behind TK at the bar on a high stool, her back to Carlos as well, and what looks like the contents of her school bag thrown across the table. Carlos can see that she has a pencil in one hand, and she's using the other one to count on her fingers. 

He approaches her, standing right behind her, and peeks over her head. Her textbook is open to a page with two colourful red circles and four blue circles joined by an '×' sign, followed by a '=' sign, and then an empty cloud. He identifies the multiplication equation, the current lesson they're doing at school. He can see that she has already drawn in six circles, and the seventh has been drawn and erased. Multiple times if the wear on the paper tells him anything.

He bends and presses a kiss to the unruly brown curls on the top of her head. She stops looking at her fingers and diverts her focus up, at him. Her grey eyes are blown wide, and they're lined by an unshed layer of tears. Carlos is about to ask her what's wrong when the quiet serenity of the house is broken by the loud, high-pitched "DAAADAAA" as she stands up on the stool and turns to hook her arms around Carlos' neck.

Carlos picks her up, holding her little, lithe body against his, trying to squeeze her into himself. He can feel the swell of her smiling cheek in the crook of his neck, and as he turns his head to press another kiss to her head, he feels her reciprocate and press tiny, small pecks to the underside of his jaw. He feels two arms wrap around his torso then, hugging them both, and a strong muscular chest attaching itself to his back. TK lifts up on his toes and rests his chin on Carlos' empty shoulder.

They stand there for a few minutes, their daughter wrapped in his arms, and his husband enveloping them both, holding all three of them together. 

TK is the first to pull away, squealing as he runs to the oven when he hears the jumble of the lid lifting by the boiling steam underneath. Ella lets go of Carlos' neck, and he drops her back into her seat before he excuses himself to go upstairs to change. As much as he wants to stay wrapped up with them, both he and TK have made it a point to change as soon as they get home. Getting into comfortable clothes, they've found, helps them let go of the burden of their jobs. It takes them away from professional mode and puts them into home mode, into parents mode.

Into _family_ mode.

He can see TK giving him a look from the corner of his eye. But under Ella's watchful gaze, and behind the disguise of changing, TK doesn't say anything. He knows TK won't be expecting him back for a few more minutes, as he does his usual decompression coping mechanism of sitting on the sofa and trying to drown his own misery in the happiness around him.

He jogs up the stairs two at a time, and crosses the hallway to their bedroom in long, purposeful strides. He opens their closet and pulls out the first pair of sweatpants and t-shirt he spots, laying them both on the bed as he begins to remove his clothes. He hurries through the process, getting his pants and socks off in one move, and then unbuttoning the top three buttons of his shirt and removing it through his head. He gets into his home attire just as fast, and then he's out the door. He stops at the last moment, turning back to grab his clothing off the floor and throwing them in the general direction of the hamper, and then he's out.

He's right about halfway down the stairs when he hears a faint echo of a whimper. He pauses, trying to focus on the source of the noise, when he hears the clearer, unmistakably Ella's sniffles. 

"What's wrong, baby?" He hears TK asks, the concern and the worry apparent in his voice alone.

"I don't- I don't know how to do it, Papa, I can't d-do it, it's so hard!" comes Ella's crying response. Carlos doesn't need to have them in his visual field to know that TK is wearing a sympathetic, heart-broken look and that Ella's looking up at her dad, seeking comfort and solace. 

He isn't sure what it is, but something compels Carlos to sit on the stairs and listen, rather than walk in and act. Just as his butt touches the rising, he hears the scratch of a chair on the flooring, and then TK's "come up here," and he knows Ella has been picked up.

Carlos hugs his knees, knowing that down the hall, Ella is held in TK's arms. He's been in those arms many-a-times, and he's very aware of the safety and security and love that they radiate. He knows Ella is in the most comfortable place she could possibly be.

The few next moments are spent in silence on both ends. Carlos is solely focused on the soft taps on TK's feet as he undoubtedly sways from one side to the side, and Ella's slowly diminishing gasps until both sounds stop.

"You're doing so well, honey. Why are you saying that you can't do it?" TK breaks the silence, voice full of love and concern.

"It's hard, I don't know how-" Ella’s voice wavers for a moment before she takes a breath and continues, "I don't know if I can."

TK lets out a sad whine, and Carlos' heart does the same. He can hear the insecurities seeping into Ella again, her seven-year-old mind still not over the three years she spent with a family that called her _'stupid'_ and _'idiot'_ for not being able to do things that she shouldn't have been able to do in the first place.

"Yes, you can, love. Just because it's hard doesn't mean you can't do it!" TK tries to reason with her. Carlos can tell Ella doesn't believe him by the violent whimpers she lets out before TK follows up, "No, no, listen, remember last year? When you said you couldn't do addition?"

There's no reply for a moment, and then Ella is humming a small "yeah?"

"Yeah, remember? You can do it now! You learned! You do addition so fast now! _**You've come so far!**_ "

There's another beat of silence that leaves Carlos straining to listen for the smallest of noises, anything so he can know what's going on in their kitchen.

"Oh," Ella grumbles eventually. "So, I just need to work like I did with adding?"

"Yes!" TK exclaims, and Carlos can't help but smile at the excited tone coming from his husband. His smile widens even further when Ella huffs a quiet "okay" in response.

He hears a thump that he thinks is Ella being put down onto the stool, and then the rustle of pages being turned. The soft padding of feet drag away from him, and then there's the sizzle of oil as something is dropped on it. He knows that they're back to normal.

Carlos takes another moment, just sitting there on the stairs, hugging his own legs. There's something about being there with them - but not - that gives him a weird sense of peace. It's witnessing them alive, hearing the sounds of their voices and movements, knowing that their personal tiny bubble is untouched, undisturbed, untroubled by whatever dangers are in the outside world. It's knowing that his family is safe and sound within the walls of their home.

He takes a deep breath and gets up. Whatever peace he feels hearing them, he knows it'll be multiplied when he's around them. He continues his descent down the stairs, walking the length of the hall, but when he gets to the living room he pauses. His plan was to just plop on the sofa for a few minutes, get his psyche and emotions under control. Instead, he finds himself drawn to the kitchen.

He heads to Ella first, dropping a kiss on her head again. He's pulling away when realises that she has eight circles drawn now, and is on to the next problem, and he finds himself bending for another kiss. She looks up at him with the second one and smiles, her bunny teeth piercing through his very soul.

He moves on from her, entering the 'U' of the kitchen and hugging TK around the waist, laying his chin on his shoulder. TK turns his head and plants a kiss on his cheek, eyes quickly darting away to rack over Carlos before he fixes his gaze on the pot again. Carlos hears the unspoken question all the same. He isn't usually back with them so soon. But hearing Ella cry and TK comforting her must have healed some part of his own sad soul. And now he's onto the next part; he wants to be in their arms as well.

Carlos smiles, hoping it carries as much peace as his heart is starting to feel, and he plants a kiss at the edge of TK's jaw. He trails a few up, and then whispers in his ear, "Wow! I can't believe you used to burn toast! _**You've come so far!**_ "

TK freezes under his arms, head fully twisting this time as he turns to glare at Carlos in recognition of the very same phrase TK just used. 

There was a time, when they first adopted Ella, when TK would feel attacked at being listened to while he deals with her. But they've talked about it. TK understands now that Carlos' need to stay close to the moment - but not in it - has nothing to do with his ability to parent. It just calms Carlos down, and his view on it has since shifted. He now sees it as proof of his skills. If Carlos didn't think he was doing something right, he wouldn't just sit there and watch and listen from afar. 

Carlos doesn't react to the glare and pursed lips. He just laughs, steals a kiss off the puckered mouth, and then moves to sit by Ella.

As he plops down next to her, she turns to him and asks about the next equation she's solving.

He can't believe that once upon seven years ago, he'd told TK that "if it isn't meant to be it isn't meant to be."

They've all come so far.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated. The door for constructive criticism is always open.


End file.
